Seeking to Expel the Cold
by Little Miss Slytherclaw
Summary: She was nervous—her hands shook as she reached for the window latch. This would be the first time she would go out alone since the incident three years ago. But, when the latch was unfastened and the window was properly opened, Ariana could hear the teary cries for help, and she was no longer scared. How could she be when someone needed her help so desperately? Ariana vs. Dementor


**Written for:**

 **QLFC, Round Seven**

 **Falmouth Falcons, Seeker**

 **Mandatory: Movies that Killed their Franchises: Green Lantern (2011)—The character choice is inspired by the movie, as Ariana is noticeably different than both Muggle and wizard, and also is generally seen as weaker/unable to handle something powerful. The Dementor is inspired by the Parallax.**

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 **Hogwarts (Assignment #2): Intro to Quidditch, task 3**

 **(Oof.. I'm not positive about everything I'm supposed to put in here, but I'm a Slytherin)**

 **Task 3 - Golden Snitch (I seriously couldn't help myself. I needed to catch at least some sort of Snitch with this fic): Write about someone or something that is small but strong.**

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 **Word count (without AN): 2144**

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 **Warnings: Bit of violence... hints at panic attacks...**

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Seeking to Expel the Cold

Ariana was sure she heard someone crying, but when she asked her mother about it, the older woman just shut the window the little girl was half leaning out of, giving her daughter a stern look.

"You are not to go outside," Mrs. Dumbledore stated. Her shoulders stiffened as she spoke, and her eyes flashed almost as if she were angry.

Ariana knew this—in the last three years, she had gone outside only on very special occasions or if both of her brothers were present. However, Aberforth and Albus were both at school, and today was not a special occasion—not in the slightest.

But, it should've been. Someone was crying, Ariana was sure of it, and the noise was getting increasingly more pitiful by the moment; not even the window could stop the sound from drifting to Ariana. It was near torture having to listen to it, but Ariana knew better than to argue with her mother. Arguments led to broken things and being taken to the basement.

If she were going to help the poor soul outside, then she couldn't be locked inside.

The window behind her creaked open, just a smidge, but fortunately Mrs. Dumbledore took no notice.

"Can… Can I have some tea? I'm feeling knackered," the little girl asked, prompting her mother to relax just slightly. When she looked at Ariana, her eyes were full of the usual exhaustion and concern.

"Of course you can, my darling," Mrs. Dumbledore replied softly, giving her a sad smile before slowly turning and walking into the kitchen, her hands flying with the nimble precision of a mother as she prepared her daughter a cup of tea. "Why don't you go and get comfortable upstairs and I'll bring this up when it's ready."

Ariana didn't have to be told twice. She only had a few moments before her mother would follow her, so they needed to be spent wisely. Upon reaching the upper landing, she stole away into Aberforth's room, set on borrowing a set of trousers, boots, a shirt, and maybe a jacket—her dresses and slip-on shoes were no good for sneaking away. After grabbing the borrowed clothes, she scurried into her room.

Quickly closing the door to her room, Ariana stowed the boots and jacket under her bed. The young girl barely had enough time to pull her brother's clothes on and get into the bed, pulling a blanket over her body, before her mother knocked on her door. Mrs. Dumbledore didn't wait for a response before coming in and setting the teacup atop the table beside Ariana's bed.

"Are you up for dinner tonight, love?" Mrs. Dumbledore asked, almost nervously. Ariana simply shook her head. She understood that her mother was afraid of her, and she hated it, but she couldn't help it.

"Sorry, mother," she said softly. "I would really like to sleep early tonight."

It felt wrong to lie to her mother, but it felt more wrong to hear the tormented tears of another and just ignore it. However she felt about it, lying was the only way she knew how to help.

Mrs. Dumbledore nodded before leaning over to press a careful kiss on Ariana's forehead. "Sleep well then, my darling," she whispered. "Sleep well."

She soon left Ariana, closing the door on her way out. As soon as the young girl could no longer hear her mother's footsteps, she threw the blanket off and reached for her brother's boots. They were a little big for her, but she found that they didn't slip off if she tied them as tight as her frail fingers could.

After waiting just a moment, straining her ears to try and hear if her mother was nearby, she stood up on the bed and opened the curtains to her window.

She was nervous—her hands shook as she reached for the window latch. This would be the first time she would go out alone since the incident three years ago. But, when the latch was unfastened and the window was properly opened, Ariana could hear the teary cries for help, and she was no longer scared. How could she be when someone needed her help so desperately?

Without another thought, Ariana shut her eyes and let the wind carry her out of her room. It was a weird feeling, one she had only felt twice before, but it was also exhilarating, as if every piece of her body were relaxing and becoming one with the wind.

Before she knew it, she had landed on the ground and was sprinting, her feet moving on their own, towards the sound of tears. She noted, as she practically flew through Godric's Hollow, that she was headed towards the church.

It wasn't long before Ariana began to feel cold, and it wasn't a normal cold either: it seeped into her bones, filling her with a terror she had never felt before. It crept up her body slowly, as if she were stepping into an almost frozen lake. With each push forward, it climbed higher, making her skin bumpy with gooseflesh and her hair stand on end.

It reminded her of the basement.

The thought of the horrid room made her want to turn away, to go back home where tea and a comfortable bed awaited her, but her thoughts were soon directed back to the current problem.

"MUMMY!" a terrified voice called out from behind the church, and that's when Ariana realized there was more than one person crying. Quickly rounding the corner, Ariana skidded to a stop, nearly tripping over her brother's large boots.

The sight that met her was almost too much to take in. Two boys and a girl were curled up against the edge of the church. The girl, maybe five, was unconscious, her limp body cradled in the arms of a boy who looked to be five as well.

"Mummy!" the boy cried again, holding the girl tighter, tears streaming down his face.

The second boy appeared to be about Ariana's age, and he looked worse than Ariana felt. His face was pale and covered with tiny beads of sweat, dark shadows decorated the space beneath his eyes, and his hair was all over the place, like someone had grabbed a fist-full of it to knock him around.

He was standing protectively over the younger two children, but his resolve wasn't going to last long; with each passing moment, his shoulders slumped lower and lower, his breathing getting heavier and heavier. It was clear that the only thing keeping him standing was the strength of his desire to keep the younger two children safe. Ariana's heart went out to him, and when her eyes landed on the cause of his trouble, the sweet girl nearly growled.

The being was hovering off to Ariana's right, not two meters away, and it looked like the epitome of a nightmare. Skeletal hands, with the complexion of spoiled milk and the consistency of lumpy cream, poked out of dark and tattered robes, and Ariana was sure that the large hood concealed something far more terrifying within its shadows.

What was most distressing, however, was what the thing made Ariana feel. She felt hopeless, like she had when her father was carted off to Azkaban, an apology on his lips and a soft touch on her cheek. She felt alone, like she did whenever Albus left for school; it was even worse now that Aberforth had left as well. She felt cold, like she had after the neighbourhood boys, back before everything changed, attacked her, beat her, until she was within an inch of her life—she almost thought that she'd never feel heat again.

So this is what a Dementor was. Albus had told her about them; Albus told her about a lot of things. Some of what he taught her was unnerving, sending her spiraling into her thoughts, fears, and memories. But, there was also a lot she was glad she knew.

For example, it was nice to know that this thing in front of her, advancing on the boy, was a Dementor. Ariana understood that she was no match the wraith-like being, and she was incredibly afraid, but that didn't stop her from throwing herself between the boy and the Dementor.

The Dementor paused, but only a moment passed before the creature turned all of its attention to Ariana. Somehow, the air around her got colder. It was hard to breath too. Her heart seemed to be trying to escape, beating against her chest wildly before attempting to climb up her throat. Everything she felt began to shift with the close proximity of the Dementor. Vague feelings and fears took on tangible forms. Or, as tangible as memories can be.

"It's sickening that creatures like you exist!" one of the neighbourhood boys shouted as he picked up a stick and swung it down hard on Ariana's shoulder. The young girl cried out in pain, falling to her knees.

"No, no, no," Ariana muttered, her eyes shutting tight and hands flying to her head, tugging at her hair as if she could pull the memory from her head if she tried hard enough. She stumbled backwards, knocking the boy behind her over.

"A monster," the second boy snarled, kicking between Ariana's shoulder blades so she pitched forward, the rocks on the ground scraping the palms of her hands.

"Get out. Get out of my head," Ariana gasped, her whole body trembling. She felt sick, so sick, but she had felt like this before. This is what she felt like whenever she had to go to the basement, a room charmed to handle intense magical outbursts. A piercing pain split her her head, sending shocks down her spine.

"Nothing but a freak," the third and final boy said, crouching down in front of Ariana, reaching out to hold her throat in a vice-like grip. She sputtered for breath, hands clawing at his arms, but he wouldn't let go. "And there is no place for freaks here."

"Mummy," a little voice whimpered from behind her, no longer able to scream like he had before, and the despair in his voice shocked Ariana back to reality. Or, at least, something close to reality.

Raising her gaze, she found that the Dementor had removed it's hood, revealing a cold face with skin scabbed over where the eyes should be and a gaping hole in place of a mouth. It was mere centimeters from her, but she couldn't move. She was frozen in place, petrified. The boy behind her whimpered again.

"GET OFF OF HER!" a voice shouted. It was a voice Ariana knew, but she couldn't turn to see who it belonged to. The two boys pinning her down didn't move, but the one hurting her ceased his motions.

"You heard my little brother," a second familiar voice said coldly, and Ariana felt the weight of one of the boys leave her body. A yelp and a dull thud told her that the boy had been knocked out. "Get the hell off of her."

Ariana didn't know what happened, but she felt the two remaining boys scramble away right as her vision began to darken. The last thing she saw before surrendering to the darkness was the blurry forms Albus and Aberforth.

The Dementor was touching her now, the feeling of ice spreading from her lips down to her toes, and she let out a blood curdling scream.

The cold shattered when Ariana felt something akin to fire alight in her chest, flooding through her veins. Where she saw darkness just moments before, in the Dementor itself, a flood of bright light overwhelmed her senses. It seemed to overwhelm the Dementor as well because the being was pushed back, quickly covering its head with its hood again, hiding from the light.

Ariana didn't stumble or hide, though, and stood her ground, still screaming at the top of her lungs. It hurt to be so loud, but the emotion inside of her was too strong to be contained. Instead, she pushed herself to be louder, hoping to drive the Dementor back farther, as the light around her brightened, becoming almost blinding.

When at last the Dementor fled, Ariana closed her mouth, very aware of the tears now streaming down her face. She wanted to reach up and wipe them off, but her hand was much to heavy. Her whole body felt like lead, and she crumpled to the ground, her vision going dark.

The last thing she saw before losing consciousness completely was the forms of Albus and Aberforth. They weren't tangible—it looked like they were made of a pearly white smoke and had light emanating from their very cores. They didn't appear to be fully human, but Ariana knew.

She just knew that her brothers had come to rescue her.


End file.
